Ten years
by Nobleteacup
Summary: After ten years, Alfred has a 'great' idea of getting Francis and Arthur talking again, however something weird. What could Francis be up to? Will the two ever stop bickering and just be friends?/ Rated M for possible yaoi moments in later chapters./ R&R BROS./ Sorry if it's a little dead for your tastes, this is my first fanfic and i've struggled so much to get ideas/
1. Chapter 1

**Ten years**

Chapter one

"Why the bloody hell did I agree to this again?" The short blonde man asked the taller one; the words wrapped in a thick British accent.

"Cuz dude, he's Mattys dad! We have to meet him again!" The taller male exclaimed with excitement before downing a shot of tequila. A loud cheer roared through the room from a group of drunken middle-aged men who were gathered around a large TV with the local football tournament on. The shorter male (Arthur) sighed deeply with frustration at his drinking buddy's answer and the loudness of the room that made his head ache. He knew this little meeting was a big mistake on his part. What the hell was he thinking, seeing _that_ guy again? Maybe it was because he just couldn't say no to his eldest son Alfred- the one standing right now next to him in the bar-.

Arthur lifted his glass of whiskey to his thin lips and started to gulp down half of the glasses contents. The brit then slammed his half-full glass on the wooden bar top, his cheeks were suddenly a soft shade of pink. "The last time I saw _him_ was at that stupid party at your place... and I didn't like him one bit. I don't do well with frogs, Alfred." Arthur murmured his words, slightly slurred and louder than normal. Of course, he had to do this anyway over the loud people around the room, enjoying their Saturday evening. The short brit sighed deeply whilst turning the other way to lean his back against the bars edge, placing his elbows back against the wooden top. Alfred grinned at the others comment as he gave the barmaid 'the eye' when she served him another shot. Grabbing the fresh shot glass, he quickly chucked the drink down his throat before slamming the small glass down on the wooden bench and opening his mouth widely to speak. "But artie, I swear you and Francis were bros, man! You guys were always together"

"You were 9 back then Alfred. You'd think that sharing the TV was what a bloody married couple did! We hated each other-!" The duo when silent when a man with long; wavy blonde hair stopped in front of them. Alongside him was a slightly smaller male with a polar bear teddy tucked away under his armpit.

"AY MATTY! WHATS UP BRO!?" Alfred cheered, quickly turning around, strutting closer to the smaller male of the foursome and swinging his arm over the man's shoulder. He then eyed the man that walked in with his younger brother and grinned once more. "Yo Francis, how's it hanging brah? Long time no see!" He stated, and then quickly looked at the now glaring brit. Arthur hated the mere sight of the Frenchman, let alone having to 'hang out' with him. Francis, entertained by the Brits expression, smirked then flicked his hair slightly over his shoulder before opening his mouth to reply. However before he could say what he wanted, the American lad blurted out that he and Matthew were going to a food place to get some 'grub'. Once he did this, he and Matthew walked off, leaving an awkward silence between the two left at the bar alone.

"The bloody hell..? ALFFRED YOU JERK-!" Arthur yelled out towards the direction the two hungry 'idiots' left, stepping forward to run after them. Francis however, had another plan and pushed lightly at Arthurs shoulder. "Now now mon petit lapin, you can't go and interrupt two brothers and food now can you?"

"Of course I can! I can bloody do what I want!" Arthur argued, glaring at the Frenchman before slapping his hand away from his own shoulder. "Why did you come here anyway..? If you didn't say yes to this stupid thing we wouldn't be here right now and I could be at home doing something better than bickering!" The brit announced with fury, moving back to the bar. He grabbed a tight hold of the glass and gulped down the rest of his drink before ordering another glass. "What anything..?" He grumbled.

"Arthur you sure do talk a lot now don't you? I remember you was so quiet and to yourself back then" Francis said smugly, ordering himself some red wine after winking at the barmaid. The barmaid only blushed and served Francis his request before walking off to serve some other men. The Frenchman then leant against the bar on his side, watching with amusement at the frustrated brit. "Mon Cher I came 'ere to see you of course. I missed your pouty little face."

Arthur shot Francis a dirty look before grabbing his fresh glass of whiskey and drank some of it. He then cleared his throat whilst placing his glass back down. "I'm sure you didn't travel all the way from France just to visit little old me Francis. Why are you REALLY over here?"

"I'm looking for something. But don't worry your lit-... BIG eyebrows over it, I promise I won't get in your way." Francis said simply after taking a sip of his wine. "Unless you want moi to~" He added, staring intently at Arthurs face; waiting for the brit to amuse him further with his reactions. "Of course I don't francis! Who the bloody hell in their right mind would want you around them?!" The brit yelled in defiance, growling lowly under his breath. What the hell could Francis really be after in London?

Francis couldn't help but laugh at Arthurs flustered self. The Frenchman took another sip of his wine and replied smugly with,

"You would, mon petit lapin."

"What gave you that bloody idea frog?"

"You are still 'ere talking to moi."

Arthur went completely silent, not knowing how to make a comeback at his old rivals comment. He knew it was wrong, but still couldn't think. What the hell. All he did was roll his eyes and drink the rest of his whiskey. "I was just on my way..." He said finally, putting on his coat. "Keep to your promise frog." Arthur said coldly before walking toward the exit. Francis smirked as he watched the other blonde walk outside, finished his glass of wine and blew a kiss at the barmaid before walking out also. "Oui, I'll try mon petit lapin." He called out after the brit which was calling waiting for a taxi. Francis walked over to the side of the pavement and whistled, a black cab quickly pulling over in front of him. The Frenchman winked at the driver then looked over at the brit, who was still struggling to catch a taxi. "Hey, do you want to share?" He asked simply. Arthur looked over at the black vehicle next to Francis, frowning. He sighed softly then nodded and walked over. "Fine but don't you dare do anything or I'll make you regret it-!" He threatened the other before quickly climbing in the back of the taxi and shuffling over to the other side of the vehicle for the Frenchman to get in also. Francis chuckled softly before following him in, slamming the door shut; the taxi drove off.

...

As the heel of the shoe lowered on the floor, Arthur soon after leaned out of the taxi and stood outside the taxi, thanking the driver and giving him the fair for the journey so far. He then closed the door and waved at the elder blonde in the passenger seat before walking away. Francis watched the young brit walk away slowly toward the familiar apartment. He put his hand on the door pull. Why was he hesitating? He quickly pulled the door open then climbed out, closed the door and followed after the other man. "Hey Arthur; Let me see your place now oui? I'll go after I promise." Francis called out across the paving as some other pedestrians looked at him oddly. Arthur turned around to see the eager Frenchman walk up to him quickly. His expression suddenly wrapped in irritation as he pulled his keys from his pocket, stopping outside his door. "Why the bloody hell do you want to see my apartment frog? It's exactly the same as back then." He stated, putting the key in the keyhole and twisting it to open the door.

"Because Mon ami, you must 'ave changed it at least a little bit. I just want a peek, come on." He replied persistently, rudely pushing the door open fully and charging into the poor brits apartment. Small, just like he remembered it. This feeling Francis had was nice. Nostalgic? Yeah, that was it. He strolled into the small living room which could only hold a rather modern yet small TV, a pretty old yet modern glass and wooden coffee table and two small sized couches. The room and everything in it were blue, brown or black; (Unless you counted the magazines under the coffee table.)

"Such a boring theme mon petit, you should take moi with you when you plan to redecorate next time, oui?" Francis suggested before receiving a whack around the head for the insulting comment. "Sod off git, I think this room looks just fine the way it is!" The brit said defensively, pushing Francis back the way he had originated from. "Now get out before I call the police for trespassing!"

Francis stumbled out of the front door of the apartment violently before turning round once he caught his balance; only to receive another glare from the smaller blonde. A sigh escaped the males' lips in defeat as he raised his hands to the sides of his face as a sign of him surrendering. "Oui oui, I give up..."

The irritant brit said his farewells before closing the door. However, before it was fully shut, it stopped. What? The now confused Arthur opened the door a little to see that francis had his hand on the door and his foot before the doorframe, making sure it didn't shut on him. "What the bloody hell do you want now Francis?! I'm busy, you can't stay. I have to wake up tomorrow early for work. I can't afford to have a late night to argue with you!" Arthur said sternly, green eyes staring into Francis' radiant blue ones. Were his eyes always such a deep colour?

"Give me your number then. We can meet up and catch up sometime. Say, Coffee tomorrow at lunch?" The eyes of the French softened as his suggestion put a minor halt to the brits irritated mood. Arthur huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, dismissing the suggestion in his mind. "I don't drink coffee frog, you know that." Francis couple help but smile at the obvious fact that his old somewhat friend had not changed over the past years in the slightest, even right down to the fact that he hated coffee. "Fine. Tea then! I'll pay even!" Francis corrected himself, though he would still be having the coffee since he himself preferred it far more than the British drink. The hopeful Frenchman waited for a rejection from the other; however what actually happened was quite a different story.

Arthur walked in to his apartment then came back a few minutes later with a pen. He grabbed Francis' hand and wrote down a phone number on the palm of his hand before writing 'arthur' on the top of it.

"There. Now will you leave?"

"Oui! I'll call you!"

"Right... Good night."

And with that, the two said their goodbyes and went their separate ways for the evening. What a surprise, Arthur actually said 'yes' to a meeting in PUBLIC with francis. Maybe he did change a little? Who knows, but Francis went to sleep that evening with a huge grin on his face.

"This will be fun" he mumbled softly before turning off his cheap hotel quality lamp. He closed his eyes and after a while, grew tired enough to actually fall asleep in such an uncomfortable bed. Francis hated hotels, especially cheap ones with no real idea on 'hotel' at all. However it was his own fault for always booking the room at the last minute, thinking he'd get the best quality in 10 minutes. The Blonde rolled onto his side to look out of the double-glaze window at the nights lights before softly speaking to himself. "God it's cold on this godforsaken island..." and dropped off to sleep shortly after.


	2. Chapter 2

The strong aroma of coffee was sucked up Arthur's tired nostrils. Wait... Coffee? Arthur's caterpillars shifted a little as his emerald eyes slid to focus on the swirling patterns of the ceiling.

Ugh, that smell was too much for the brits 'exquisite' preferences.  
Why did his apartment smell of coffee of all things though? The blonde despised the brown substance.

Arthur was thrown out of his thoughts when an obnoxious laughter filled the room. The Britannian sat up then glared at the body standing in the middle of his door frame. His eyes then trailed up to meet two eyes hidden behind glasses.

"What are you doing in here Alfred?! And why are you in my room as well?!" Arthur barked before throwing an un-used pillow in the direction of the Americans head. The said American, however, had other plans and caught the incoming rectangle of softness.

"I just came to say hey eyebrows, chill bro!" Alfred replied before walking over to put the pillow in the angered brits face to playfully start a fight with the sleepy brit. Unlike his son, Arthur didn't find this very funny at all when he suddenly found himself forced back into his sleeping pillow by another one trying to suffocate him!

After a few seconds, the brit punched the Americans stomach in his squirming fit, making the pillow draw back and fall on the floor. Arthur's eyes then flung open as his body sat up and he stared at the now whimpering Alfred by his bedside, holding his stomach. Despite the smaller blondes' petit size, he was pretty strong. Though, of course he was also older and so had developed those muscles over the short period of time he had been around in the world.

Alfred looked at his father in complete discomfort. "That hurt dude! Arthur man you need to lighten up!" The American babbled as he quickly recovered from his tummy pains.

"Why the bloody hell should I lighten up when you tried to kill me?!" Arthur barked, climbing out of his covers and taking a deep breath. He shrugged off the Americans idiotic reply and explanations and started to strip the bed sheets. "Alfred, just answer the question. Why are you here?" He asked again.

Alfred's lips curled up into a grin as he suddenly realised why he was actually there. "Oh, yeah, right! I just wanted to come see what happened last night with you and Francis. What's so bad with that~?"

"Yes it bloody well is you wanker!" The shorter blonde cursed, grabbing a pillow and quickly batting the American with the soft cloth full of feathers. Arthur then left the obnoxiously laughing man behind in the room to fix himself some breakfast. "Bacon, eggs... Sausage... Beans..." He thought allowed, opening his fridge and the cupboard next to it for a reasonable sized plate.

His eyes scanned the fridge shelves filled with various foods and liquid substances in their different shaped cartons and bottles.  
No bacon..

He started shoving packets aside to look further into the fridge for some bacon rashes in their normal slim plastic packaging.

Still.

No.

Bacon.

Arthur almost whined with frustration. 'I just bloody bought some the other day!' He thought before pulling out the rest of the foods. Then, Alfred walked into the room with a cheeky grin when he saw his 'father' figure so frustrated. "Yo Arty, what's wrong brah? Loose something?" He questioned mockingly, knowing the answer since he himself was the cause. He'd gotten into this tradition where once or twice a month, he'd come into Arthur's house and take the bacon then hide it in his coat pocket or something before his bacon loving friend could find it to eat his normal breakfast.

Arthur scrolled and turned around to eye the American. "My bacon went missing again! I can't believe this! I don't understand why people cannot just simply go to the shop and buy some slices of bacon for about one pound when they're on special offer! It's so much easier!" He complained before huffing and leaning against the kitchen unit, folding his arms over his chest. This /normal/ behaviour made the taller male with glasses grin then laugh in that 'annoying' way Arthur simply didn't enjoy one bit. Arthur would say it sounded like a 'choking cat' or something along those lines.

The darker haired man tossed a flip phone at his friend, only to be caught. The brit only stared at the Alfred quietly in wonder. "What the hell? Why are you giving me your phone?" He asked, flipping the phone open quickly to look at the screensaver which- was in fact- a picture of a small boy that looked like Alfred, an even smaller boy that looked a lot like Matthew, and two young looking men that looked exactly the same- if not younger- as Francis and himself. The four were gathered around a small drum set that was set next to a box with wrapping paper tarred to shreds scattered around the floor. The two little boys were in Red and Blue jumpers, and both fighting over the drumsticks. Arthur was also right in the middle of the little childish game of tug-o-war, trying to break the fight by taking the stick away from both of them. Francis (standing out as always) simply sat on the side of the screen with a soft smile perched on his lips, watching the three boys in the centre of the picture.

Arthur found himself dazed by the picture as old memories of the day in the picture replayed in his head. Those were the days..  
"Call him dude!"

These words quickly broke Arthur out of his nostalgia when reality slapped him in the face once more.

"Who? No damn it! Keep your nose in your own business!" He detested before quickly closed the phone and holding his arms once again stubbornly. Alfred could only scoff at this before grinning once more. "Then I will.~" He teased, earning a phone being pelted at his head by a rather irritated young Brit.

"Don't you bloody dare! I will do it in my own time IF I feel like it! Keep your nose out of other people's business."

"You just threw it at me, I can do it now.~"

"GIVE IT BACK TO ME!"

"Make me."

"ALFRED!"

~~ In the Church hill Hotel- London.~~

"Oui? Oh- Bonjour Arthur, have a good-"The French accent came to a halt in mid sentence and a rather strong British one overtook in a mute kind of fashion. Matthew stepped out of the tiled flooring of the bathroom and onto the rather fluffy white carpet of the shared bedroom.

A violet coloured towel neatly hung it's self on the Canadians hips, hiding his dignity with his father in the room. "Papa?"

Francis looked over at Matthew in awe as he pretended to listen to the Brits rambling rant about transport in London being better than the French one.

Being who he was, the Frenchman simple winked at the younger male."Oui?" He asked Matthew.  
Even though he was on the phone to his favourite Brit, he knew the blonde on the other line would just take it as him agreeing with him or something: even if the purpose was not to really talk to him at all.

Matthew pouted at the Frenchman's behaviour, seeing what he was doing to his other parental figure. "Papa that's a little rude don't you think? Finish your conversation first!" He scolded quietly. Matthew tended to have a very soft voice- even if he were shouting; someone would think he was whispering to them. Many people thought it were pretty cute to be honest, and when someone told him about it- he'd get flustered and laughed at.  
Come to think of it- he'd always been like that- even as a kid.  
Francis chuckled before nodded in acceptance to Matthew, waiting for his now bellowing friend to stop talking so he could say his farewells.

"Oui oui, Arthur calm down I get it!"

"No—What?. Oh yes! Of course, because you yourself have been on the tubes, right?"

"Mmmhmm.~"

Francis could hear Arthur mumbled through the phone to himself, then sigh deeply.

"What's wrong cher?"

"Nothing- don't call me that! .. Want to.. Maybe.. Meet up later? I mean I'm not busy and stuff. It's not like a actually WANT to see you or anything! I'm just bored.."

Francis couldn't fight back the sudden urge to smile at the other blonde males' words. He slowly sat down on his neatly made bed and crossed his legs over with a soft grin plastered on his lips. "Sure Arthur, I'd love to." He cooed before quickly saying goodbye in his native tongue and hanging up.

The silent Canadian finally took a breath to speak to his French father. "So...?"

"He sounds interested /finally/. Did you talk to Alfred, cher?"

"Oui, I did.. But he was playing on the computer so I don't think he was listening."

"Well he must have persuaded Arthur to ask me to meet up with him."

They both shrugged at all the possibilities of what had actually happened simultaneously, then started to find some clothes for the day ahead for themselves.

~~ Time Skip~~

Tap tap tap.

The irritating sound of melt hitting china filled the quiet corner. It was only 1:30: why was he so annoyed? Arthur couldn't think of any sort of answer what so ever. He'd decided today that he'd show Francis off by turning up before him; and it was true; he did turn up early after a very rushed morning and start to the afternoon. He eventually dragged himself out to the corner shop to get himself some more bacon, then found more bacon in the fridge that he'd assumed was the missing pack he bought the other day. He then had a job interview at 10:45 for one whole hour (damn business men running over schedule) and dropped Alfred back off at his 'holiday' apartment in Croydon on the other side of the bloody city. Arthur for one was glad he'd moved from that place and into Chelsea. It's a lot nicer here, even if it were a bit on the pricey side.  
In all honesty, Arthur didn't think he'd meet the meeting time of two, let alone be early enough to boast to the 'frog' about it. However traffic seemed to move a lot more easier for him on the way back and he made it a little too early. And now it was too early to even think about watching out for the Frenchman, and too late to go back home and come later.

"Thirty minutes.. You can do this chap." He muttered to himself as he lightly knocked his teaspoon against the china cup in front of him in poor efforts of entertainment.

After ten minutes of customers growing impatient with the clanking sound made by the Brit in the corner, the cafe's door bell chimed as the glass door opened, having said Frenchman walk in graciously. Francis didn't exactly know why Arthur of all people had invited him to a cafe: that's why he was so eager to find out. But right now his task was the find the blonde Brit in the blanket of blonde headed Brits that sat in front of him.

Francis' ocean blue eyes scanned the room and all the faces within it before finally stopping at the Brits bushy brows. A grin quickly swiped his thin lips as he started toward the blonde in the corner. "Bonjour mon ami." He cooed.

"Hello Frog.."


End file.
